


Hands Stained Crimson

by theoretically_moss



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimson Flower Route, Death, Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, new game plus memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25178251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoretically_moss/pseuds/theoretically_moss
Summary: Life and death. A cyle Byleth cannot escape no matter how many times she rewound the clock. She's tried twice before to stop the war of Fódlan, and yet, the results are always the same. The emperor dies and the ruse of peace rises across the land. Yet the people still suffer. Once again, Byleth is forced to go back and relive the horrid war, but she's sick of the death and destruction it brings. She's steeled herself to prevent such pain, no matter the cost--even if it means allying herself with the monster who would start such a war.Revision of my original Hands Stained Crimson fic. I'm not completely satisfied with the original result, and as such, I've decided to come back and rewrite all the chapters, both adding and removing quite a bit of content while also straying more away from the original game dialogue.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 12
Kudos: 90





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> It may seem odd for me to re-release this whole fic, but I looked back on it and I think the writing and story could have been improved. So after half a year, I've come back with Hands Stained Crimson, rewriting the entire story. I legit have put the entire story in one large document and have been rereading the whole thing and editing it. I want the best version of this story possible, so I've taken in critiques of the original story and my own critiques as I move forward with editing.
> 
> I've kept the old fic up though, as a way to keep the old work somewhere. And I'm making this a whole new fic because I do plan on it being different. It'll probably end up longer with more chapters and improved writing. So putting all the edits in the old fic seemed a bit tedious. I'm mostly just updating this fic for myself, but I may as well share the improved product with everyone. So here this is. Please enjoy as I post updated chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha! Surprise to those who enjoyed HSC! I've been working on this! And I decided to celebrate my birthday today by dropping the first chapter. I hope y'all enjoy and look forward to an improved version of the fic.

The sound of tapping echoed across the office. A quill lightly hitting the surface of her desk over and over. Papers sprawled across the surface, a sea of documents to be traversed. Among them, one document stood out, sitting in the center of the desk, light green eyes staring at the words scribbled upon it. Though they did not seem to take in the information, rather glazed over and lost.

Faerghus.

The singular word stood out from the paper in Byleth’s mind, all other words a blur, lost in her peripheral. Once, there had been the Holy Kingdom by the name of Faerghus, but it was no more, now a mere territory of the United Kingdom of Fódlan. She pursed her lips as the name bounced through her head, repeating itself over and over. A kingdom that once had a king. A king who she knew.

Dimitri.

She could still feel his blue eye staring at her. The rain on her face as she stood outside the castle in Fhirdiad. A sad frown pulled at the man’s features, his lips opening to refute something. There was a boy there, too. Small, young. He was dressed in fine clothes, hiding behind the king’s cape. Scared blue eyes peeked out from beneath blonde hair, looking up to the woman who came to speak with his father.

Byleth grit her teeth, wishing to will the image away. She had been a coward. There would be no more running from her problems and those of others. There were problems to fix. People were dying, nobles doing nothing to help their own, instead leeching off those beneath them. And despite the end of a war so long ago, many continued to die. The land had been left in ruin, the healing process a long one. So much pain. She could see it all, even feel it all, but she was too weak to do anything.

A snap rang through her ears, forcing her to return to the present. The quill in her hand had broken in half, ink staining her fingers. Byleth blinked, staring at her destroyed writing implement before tossing it aside. The ink continued to drip, trickling down her hand. Black slowly turned to a deep red, the motion of the ink reminding her of blood.

Clenching her fist shut, she closed her eyes, taking in a deep stuttered breath. It was not blood, simply some ink. And yet, it would never change the fact that her hands had already been deeply stained by the crimson of blood. The very hand she wrote with had ended the lives of others. What a hypocrite she was to kill so many in the name of defending the people.

A small knock came from the door to her office. Taking in another deep breath, she sat up straight, looking across what had once been Rhea’s office to the door. Clearing her throat, she spoke in a stern voice. “You may enter.”

The door creaked open, a young soldier stepping in, their posture stiff and uncomfortable. Their lips were turned down, twitching as words fell out their mouth “Milady, King Khalid has come to see you. He’s waiting outside the audience chamber.”

“Thank you. Please, let him in.”

The soldier gave a quick bow before turning on their heels and leaving, closing the door behind them. A deep sigh escaped Byleth’s lips as she dropped her head into her hands. Right. It was the Verdant Moon, the anniversary of the end of the Empire’s war. She could hardly remember how long it had been since then. Years, perhaps even decades. And as with every year, Khalid was sure to visit.

A frown pulled at Byleth’s features as she thought of the man. The King of Almyra, working to end tensions between Fódlan and the rest of the world. Yet, the moment the war ended, he up and left the continent, deciding to put it in the hands of a mercenary of all people. She couldn’t help but be angry at her former student. Byleth was no political leader, but a fighter. And if Khalid truly wished to fix relations between Fódlan and the rest of the world, then he should have done so as its leader and not as a king of a foreign country.

Perhaps most of her anger towards him was due to leaving all reparation of a country he once led to her. Still, she was glad for his assistance from Almyra. No more soldiers would have to die on their borders, fighting in a needless conflict. If anything, Khalid knew how to do just enough to make Byleth fine with allowing him back in Fódlan.

Letting out another sigh, she stood, moving around her desk and slowly approaching the door to her office. She gently lifted a hand, pressing it against the wood, hesitating for a moment. Is this what she wanted? Political meetings and law-making? Overseeing an entire people and their suffering? Perhaps she could convince Khalid to return. But he had his own country to run, his own people to help. It would be selfish of her to ask such a task of him. And yet she knew no one more qualified.

Shaking her head, she forced the idea away. It didn’t matter. She would help the people, end their suffering. Maybe that would alleviate her own pain. She pushed the door open, walking into the center of the audience chamber, her side and the ground being colored by the light shining through the stained glass. A door to her right blew open, a tan man walking through the opening, holding himself with great pride. His dark hair poked out from a golden cloth wrapped around his head, a small braid hanging on the side of his face. A smile split across his face, reaching his dark green eyes as he held his arms wide. “It’s good to see you again, my friend!”

There was that name Khalid had always called her once again. Everyone else seemed to have some emotional response to such a word. But every time someone called her a friend, Byleth felt nothing. The word held no meaning to her, whether emotional or defined. It was simply another name people called her, along with professor or any of the honorifics that one would use to refer to her as a leader. Perhaps it was some commonly known word to everyone, but she hardly had a common life, whether referring to her upbringing or otherwise. Even the most common of ideas meant nothing to her without explanation, and this idea remained one out of her grasp.

There was no use dwelling, though. She opened her mouth to reply, her usual practiced greeting. But no words came out. Not even a breath. Byleth slowly worked her mouth, trying to make a sound, anything come out. But there was complete silence. Her mouth snapped shut, eyes widening as she realized she could no longer make out Khalid’s face. He stood right before her, and yet she couldn’t see a single feature of his face.

He seemed to notice too, trying to speak to Byleth. But the words were distorted, his sounds unintelligible. It was as though she was deep underwater, trying to listen to him speak through the liquid. She tried so hard to scream through this disconnect, to force her way back to the present, but she had no control. Her limbs were stiff, her voice gone, and the world distant.

This was just like with Dimitri. Just like all that time ago when she tried to run. She was losing control. Losing herself. This couldn’t happen. Not again. Byleth tried with al her might to focus on the world around her, to stop it from slipping away. She tried to fight her loss of control with every fiber of her being. But the harder she tried to fight it, the more the world seemed to slip away into darkness.

The floor slowly disappeared beneath her, letting go of her as she fell completely into the darkness. She watched as the world above escaped her grasp, Khalid disappearing into the dark nothingness. Only when all was gone did Byleth’s voice tear free. “Don’t do this!”

Her feet landed on a familiar stone floor, a strange green light filling the world she occupied. Byleth kept her eyes focused on the floor, well aware of what sight awaited her when she would look up. Her bangs hung from her face, framing her view. The once green strands had now returned to their old blue hue.

She was back at the beginning.

Slowly, Byleth raised her head, her lips contorting into a deep frown as her blue eyes locked onto a green-haired girl sitting upon a large throne. The blue-haired woman snapped at the girl, barking out in anger. “Sothis, why are you doing this? Wasn’t it enough for me to go through that war once? Do you want me to suffer a third time?”

A scoff escaped the girl’s lips—or rather the goddess’s lips. Dark green eyes looked down upon the mercenary, green brows furrowed. “Do you think me a sadistic monster? I take no joy in this either, but I will not allow you to live an eternity watching me walk about in your body!”

A growl escaped Byleth’s throat, the woman taking a step forward. Though despite her best efforts of intimidation, she still stood far from the goddess, positioned at the foot of the steps to her throne. “I’d prefer watching you in a peaceful world over having to relive this nightmare.”

The girl rolled her eyes and leaned forward. “You know I can read your heart. It is clear you have your regrets. You feel the pain of all humans, carrying the burden of their war.” A sigh escaped Sothis’s lips, concern filling her eyes as she seemed to look down on the woman, almost as though in pity. “I know you wish to prevent this war from happening. And might I remind you that peace is not eternal? The world in which you would watch me walk would no doubt be riddled with wars throughout time.”

Perhaps Sothis was right, but Byleth had no desire to admit to such a thing. Still, it was a chance to prevent the war. A chance to prevent the people’s suffering from happening in the first place. Maybe if such a thing were to happen, she could finally look at herself.

Slightly raising a hand, the mercenary stared at it, seeing the crimson that stained her skin. Perhaps it was something only she could see, but it was still there. The blood of those she killed. Of those who suffered. If she could save them, prevent their deaths, then her conscious could be clean. Swallowing back her anger, Byleth looked back up to the goddess, giving a small nod. “Fine. You’ve already reversed the hands of time. There’s no undoing that.”

A smile split across Sothis’s face as she jumped up from her throne, landing on her bare feet as she clapped her hands together—a tell-tale sign of a scheme brewing. A satisfied hum escaped the girl’s lips, her voice filled to the brim with excitement as she spoke. “Good. Now it’s time you woke up. We have much to do.”


	2. An Inevitable Encounter

“Hey. Time to wake up.”

Jeralt’s words rang in Byleth’s ears, the sound strange yet not unwelcome. How foreign his voice had become to her, the distinct sound of it dulling in her memory after all those years. Yet it was so familiar, as though she had still been hearing it every day. As though the memories she awoke from were just one long nightmare—and like a nightmare, those memories felt foggy, yet the pain was clear. With a sigh, the blue-haired mercenary left the comfort of her bed and dressed into her armor. Once she was certain it was secure, she left her room to find her father waiting for her. The sound of her door opening drew the man’s attention, his brown eyes looking over to his daughter, a single brow raising as he seemed to give her a quick scan. “Were you having that dream again?”

Where would she even begin to answer such a question? She had a feeling of what had happened in the past—or rather the potential futures to come—but it was like such memories were trapped in a thick layer of fog, allowing for only a silhouette to be made out, the details obscured. There had been a war, one that caused her great pain, but the details of it had escaped her grasp. Who had begun it? Why had the people fought one another? She knew she killed so many in such a war, yet the rest seemed just out of reach. Still, she could feel the dull pain in her unbeating heart, that of those who suffered. “No, this one was different. It was of a war.”

Her father’s brows knitted together in concern, his eyes shone with a slight sadness. Though the look quickly faded as his features returned to their usual hardened look. “There hasn’t been a large-scale battle in centuries. It’s hardly something you should concern yourself with. Not when we have a job to do. Letting your mind wander is a sure way to get yourself killed.”

Despite his looks, Byleth could hear the strain of concern in her father’s voice. He had no idea of what was to come. And despite it all, he still worried for her and all that she seemed to think or feel. She wished she could tell everything to him, but the future-past felt hazy and to put such a burden on the man seemed almost selfish. Instead, she gave a simple nod, forcing her lips to pull up ever so slightly. “I know, Dad. You’ve told me before.”

Jeralt quirked a brow, perhaps perplexed by the strange show of slight emotion from his daughter. Or perhaps noticing that she was hiding something. But whatever he saw, he seemed to brush away, the look fading with a sigh. “Okay, time to get moving. Our next job is in the Kingdom. I told you before. It’s far from here, so we’ll need to leave at dawn.”

Letting out a concerned hum, Jeralt looked past Byleth out the window of the house. Byleth followed his gaze, taking note of the crowd of mercenaries outside, a slight commotion among them as they rushed about. The mercenary captain grumbled to himself as he watched them run about. “Good grief. Everyone is already waiting for us outside.”

The large man made his way towards the door, opening it to find a mercenary slightly out of breath, about to reach for the handle. There was a moment of complete silence as the two men’s eyes met. Had he not been a trained soldier, Byleth had no doubt the mercenary would have a panicked look and be stumbling over his words. Instead, he stood upright, his posture kept perfectly in line as he spoke, voice unwavering. “Jeralt! Sir! Sorry to barge in, but your presence is needed.”

Jeralt kept his casual and imposing demeanor, crossing his arms as he looked over the man in front of him. He quirked a brow as he looked past the mercenary to take in the commotion outside his house, before returning his gaze and speaking with a stern voice. “What’s happened?”

The mercenary turned, motioning the pair to follow as he explained, leading them out of the house and towards the village gates. “Three kids showed up shouting for help just outside the village, sir. Scouts haven’t reported anything yet, so I thought it best you talk to them yourself and figure out what’s happening.”

Once they reached the entrance, he pointed over to a group of three well-dressed individuals, all looking just a few years younger than Byleth. She and Jeralt approached the group, all of whom wore black outfits, similar in style, though with slight differentiations. Clearly, they were uniforms and each of them seemed to carry weapons, so Byleth would have assumed them to be mercenaries or soldiers of some kind. But they seemed too well-dressed and lacking in armor. Something made its way through the fog in her mind, a memory of students in classes, learning to battle. Upon closer inspection, the students’ faces seemed familiar.

One of the three was a boy with blonde hair, his uniform the only one to have armor, the metal well-crafted and made to cover his chest and arms, clearly prepared to protect his vitals in battle. The outfit he wore was black with silver accents, adorned with a long blue half-cape that hung from his left shoulder. _Dimitri_. Yes, Byleth remembered. His name was Dimitri, a young noble whose exterior seemed to hide indescribable pain that resided in his eyes.

Standing to the left of him was another boy. While the others had fair white skin, this boy’s skin was tanned as though he spent much time outside and perhaps was even dark enough to be someone from outside of Fódlan. His hair was also unlike that of people from around the continent, his short dark hair seemed to curl in on itself, some of it held in a small braid to the side of his face, a style not seen in Fódlan. Among the three, his outfit was worn the most casually, having the front of his long jacket popped open to show a yellow shirt beneath. Similar to the other boy, a half-cape hung from his left shoulder, though it was much shorter and colored yellow instead of blue. _Claude_. That was his name. Byleth was sure of it, a young man who would make allies to use for his benefit through fake smiles and sugary words.

To the right of Dimitri was a girl with piercing lilac eyes and stark white hair, a color that seemed unnatural for someone so young. Her outfit was by far the most formal and well-kempt of the group, looking like she was pulled directly from children’s tales of princes. Her clothing seemed completely creaseless as a cravat stuck out from her jacket and a golden tassel hung from her right shoulder, her clothing seemingly kept excruciatingly clean. Not a speck of skin was showing aside from her face as her jacket was buttoned all the way up, white gloves covered her hands, and red leggings completely covered her legs beneath her shorts. And just like the others, a cape hung from her left shoulder, though this one was a dark red. _Edelgard_. As the name rung in Byleth’s head, a rage seemed to burn in her mind, but the reason seemed to be lost in the fog. All she could see of the one before her was a prideful young woman who seemed to examine others at all times.

“Bandits? Here?”

Jeralt’s voice drew Byleth back to the present. Dimitri had been explaining that the three of them were being pursued by bandits. A story that the mercenary captain hardly seemed to believe as he raised his eyebrow questioningly, his arms crossed as he let out a grunt. Edelgard took note of the man’s composure, her eyes seeming to flick between each part of Jeralt’s body language, her face blank as though processing the information. In just a moment, she shook her head, speaking in a level voice, as though her every word was calculated. “It’s true. They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp.”

_How very her_ , the thought sneered in Byleth’s head, as though to condescend the girl. Though the thought remained undecipherable as the thick haze covered her memories. Why did she seem to look down on Edelgard so? What incited such anger within her? Just what did this girl before her do to earn such hatred? She wanted to understand.

“Bandits spotted just outside the village!”

The shout came from a mercenary scout, drawing Byleth out of her thoughts. It was a welcome distraction to remove herself from that which she could not understand. After all, the only world she truly understood was that of battle.

Jeralt’s own reaction was opposite of his daughter’s, his lips pulling into a thin line as his features crinkled into a deep frown. He let out a grunt of annoyance as he motioned to the students. “I guess they followed you all the way here. We can’t abandon this village now.” He turned his attention to Byleth, anger flaring deep within his eyes. “Come on, let’s move.”

That was enough for Byleth to draw her sword from its sheathe, the worn blade glinting in the in the faint moonlight. To another, a sword in such a state may indicate an incompetent wielder, one who fails to take the time to care for the weapon. But to the seasoned mercenary, they could see the blade was well taken care of despite the wear, suggesting one who’s survived many an encounter.

It was due to such experience that Byleth chose to rush forward, without the need of any further orders from her father, all while ignoring the students behind her. She could make out the faint figures of the bandits in the moonlight, counting only a handful. Their numbers would be no issue for a mercenary, but enough to harm a village if left alone.

With a swift strike, Byleth left a deep cut in the closest bandit’s side. It was deep enough to slow him, but not fatal. She quickly turned to bring down a finishing blow when a red cape filled her vision. Though it wasn’t right. The cape was covered in blood and ash, adorned with the crest of the Adrestian Empire. The mercenary could feel bile rise up her throat as the smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils.

The image disappeared the next moment as the bandit choked out a scream before gurgling on his own blood, body falling limp to the ground as an axe removed itself from him. Lilac eyes met blue, a distant analyzing gaze staring through Byleth. “It seems unlike a mercenary to become distracted on the battlefield.”

A slight frown pulled at Byleth’s lips as a small grunt escaped her throat, something that Edelgard seemed to ignore as she pushed forward with her assault. Taking in a deep breath, the blue-haired woman brought her focus back to the battlefield. Even if she disliked the girl’s condescending voice, her words rang true.

Byleth brought back up her sword, slashing through enemy bandits, paying no mind the bodies that fell around her. But she couldn’t help her eyes wandering back to the white-haired woman now and again. As her sword cut down one final bandit, Byleth found her gaze locked on Edelgard’s back, bandit’s dead bodies scattered around her as she stood proudly, watching over her own work.

The red cape that hung from her shoulder looked more and more like the one Byleth has seen in her vision. That large cape covered in blood and soot, now adorned by a crown of white hair and golden horns. The bodies that surrounded the person seemed to multiply, morphing into the image of soldiers, mutilated beyond recognition. A red gauntlet held a large axe made of bone, crimson liquid dripping from its spikes. Their head turned, those same cold lilac eyes meeting Byleth’s.

_Conqueror. Murderer. Monster._

Those words repeated over and over in the mercenary’s head, becoming louder and louder. A fire raged in her chest, anger boiling over as recognition set in. She would cause a war. She would kill a multitude of innocent people, all for her own selfish purposes.

One of the bodies by her feet began to move, getting up and lifting an axe. Though they were not one of the soldiers. They held the face of a bandit, letting out shout as they brought down their weapon, splitting open a young Edelgard’s back, her own blood staining the ground at her feet.

The images engrained themselves in Byleth’s mind, trying to comprehend them as the world shattered into fragments that slowly disappeared into nothingness. That girl would destroy everything. She would end the world as everyone knew it. It stoked a flame in Byleth’s chest, as though embers were being rekindled into a fire.

“What do you think you’re accomplishing, watching her die like that?!”

The blue-haired mercenary turned to take in the sight of the throne that towered above her, Sothis taking her rightful place atop it. Annoyance knit its way into the goddess’s brows, her face scrunching up as if to scrutinize the human before her. “You’re the one who chose to stop time.” Byleth’s words were plain, lacking emotion as though to point out the facts of the situation. “And she’s the one who started the war, isn’t she? That would mean killing her now would prevent it.”

A frustrated groan escaped Sothis’s throat as she stood up from her throne, her frown deepening into one of anger as her voice rose. “Honestly! At times you are worse than a child! Is that fog in your head so thick as to forget the basics? Every side of a war has their own accomplices, and surely that girl had some of her own. Surely they would use the excuse of the death of the Adrestian heir to start a war!”

“What, so the war is inevitable?” Byleth ruffled a hand through her hair, trying to think of anything to prevent disaster. But her mind was blank, the fog of time eluding her of answers. “Damnit. If she’s alive, she’ll start the war. And if she dies, it’ll just start a different one.” A sigh escaped her lips, drooping her head as her voice fell to a whisper. “I just want this bloodshed to end.”

Sothis slowly fell back onto her throne, leaning onto one of the arms to rest her head in her hand. She let out a deep breath, closing her eyes as she mumbled to herself. “A way to stop this war without blood on your hands. That would be difficult indeed…” She trailed off, her mumbling becoming unintelligible, brows knitting as she entered deeper in thought. The moment seemed to drag on, only interrupted when her green eyes shot open, a wide smile gracing her face. “Ah! That is it! You need to keep the girl alive! Watch over and protect her—"

“What?! I want to stop the war, not help her start it!”

Byleth’s sudden outburst earned a glare from Sothis, who rolled her eyes as she leaned back in her throne. “Perhaps you should act the age you are and listen! I was not finished.” She glared at the mercenary beneath her, watching the woman glance away and straighten herself before continuing. “Being so close to her, she would no doubt listen to and value your own opinion. She obviously seemed to value you in the war, even though you fought her, so I wonder what would happen were you actually close to her.”

Despite the fog of time, Byleth could still see slight images of those lilac eyes. Ones that were young and looked at her with awe. And ones that had seen the horrors of war, cold and distant, yet a soft sadness when meeting blue. Byleth shook the image away, letting out a deep sigh in resignation. “Fine. We’ll try your plan.”

With a clap of her hands, the goddess jumped back to her feet, a magic glyph appearing before her as her lips split into a wide smile. “Wonderful! You really are quite troublesome, but I will be certain to help guide you down this path.”

Shards of time returned from the dark, reassembling themselves into a time past, rewinding the clock to only a few seconds before. The pieces locked together, time reforming itself and beginning again, allowing Byleth to step forward into a sprint. No matter how she felt, she would force her instinct to protect, putting herself between Edelgard and the bandit, raising her sword to parry the axe and send the enemy flying. Fear etched itself into the bandit’s face, propping himself on wobbly legs as he let out an order for the others to run for their lives.

Byleth let out a huff, relaxing her body. Though the tension quickly returned as she remembered who stood behind her, a frown pulling at her lips. She only dared to face the girl when Claude’s voice broke through the woods in a shout. The boy came running down a hill with Dimitri, the two giving relieved glances to Edelgard, seeing that she was safe.

Blue eyes slid their gaze over to white hair, analyzing the young woman before her. She could no longer see the conqueror that had been on the battlefield, but rather the image of a young woman, relieved to be safe. But Byleth wouldn’t be fooled. She knew what stood before her, no matter what lies she might use to mask herself.

_I swear, I will end this war before it begins. No matter the cost._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I return from the dead to update with another chapter. Sorry I was gone so long, but I've been rather busy with work and now I've suddenly been thrown into my final year of college along with a tutoring job, so I don't have the time I used to. But I still really want to update the story, hopefully with a new chapter every other week at the very least. I find this to be one of the few relaxing and enjoyable things to do after classes.


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